


Thirst of Gods

by indignantpup



Category: GOT7
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Future, Amnesia, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Being Lost, Body Worship, Bottom Kim Yugyeom, Character Death, Crime Fighting, Death Threats, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Everyone Is Gay, F/M, Falling In Love, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Futuristic, I don't know sorry, I love jingyeom, Jackson is a Dad, Jinyoung lost his memories, M/M, Multi, Near Future, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Organized Crime, Past Sexual Abuse, Psychological Torture, Rough Kissing, Slow Burn, Spanking, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Top Park Jinyoung | Jr., Unrequited Love, Violence, a little jackbam on the side, author is terrible, fantasy?, i guess that's it, maybe some supernatural, pepigyeom, policeman! Kim Yugyeom, prior jjp stuff (maybe?), strange things qqq, uh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2019-09-02 05:19:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16780396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indignantpup/pseuds/indignantpup
Summary: Jinyoung got up, his head throbbing with a headache so painful he felt like his skull was cracking. He looked around. He didn't know where he was, he just knew this name instinctively: Park Jinyoung. He looked about, and saw police cars and sirens blaring all around him. He looked at his hands, slick, velvety and yelling red blood soaking his clothes, leaving fingermarks in the phone booth he was. Jinyoung didn't know who he was. And now he was the prime suspect of a crime.





	1. Hades' Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is a pepigyeom I was cooking in my head for a while. I don't know how many chapters this is going to be, it all depends on my good will to write long chapters XD  
> I'm inspired by a lot of things, so yeah, feel free to leave some comments if you like it so far. Fellow pepigyeom enthusiasts, rise!!!!!!

"I've always liked to play with fire" - "Play with Fire (feat. Yacht Money)" 

I.

It was almost midnight, the streets of Seoul still packed with people; late workers, vendors, smashed drunkards, dealers and prostitutes. The city was always polluted with people and advertisements everywhere you looked, in all the buildings, cars, buses, invasive holograms jumping out at you. In downtown, when Yugyeom was strolling in his designated area, tight police uniform and shining badge in his chest, he thought to himself that today the city was especially full. It was cold, puffs of steam escaping his mouth, and he never felt so grateful when Jackson Wang came back from the convenience with a can of hot coffee. He usually didn't drink bitter drinks, but since he started in the force two months ago, he began to enjoy the feeling of the beverage slipping down his throat. At least it kept him awake and warm since he first got the job, because the biting cold hasn't left Seoul as if mocking him. He usually slept early and was proud of being one of the best students in the police academy, graduating earlier than a lot of his colleagues with just twenty one. He was immediately assigned, but his boss didn't really trust him all that much, and because he was chief, Yugyeom was now in the night patrol. He didn't really mind it that much, Kim Yugyeom was hard-working and wanted to prove himself and Jackson helped much during their investigations, even though the older didn't put much effort into anything. 

"You know, I never met someone so intent on taking a big case. Generally the guys just run away from it, it's too much trouble", Jackson said, drinking his coffee slowly and stepping aside to let the multitude of people pass by. He rubbed his neck with a free hand, fingers dry and peeling of the edges because of the cold, going to rub the sharp stubble with a stretched hand while still holding his can.

"Most tend to do that, yes, but I want to help people", Yugyeom answered, not an ounce of presumption in his voice, "I became a police officer for that reason, and I'm not planning on watching drunks and thongs forever", he answered, looking at his smart watch glint in the lights of a hologram about artificial intelligence for your house. 

Jackson sneered, waving his head while contemplating. Yugyeom was too naive if he thought like that, but he sure was earnest and proactive, so Jackson wouldn't crush his bubble just yet. Being an officer in these times was not a desirable profession: the majority of the men in the station couldn't care less about protecting people, as everyone just wanted a promotion and receive bribe from the drug gangs. Jackson wouldn't blame them, after all, they didn't really had any power against powerful people. It was a long time since gangs and criminals had back up from important and rich figures, so the entire justice department was corrupted. Crimes were violent and concealed and if you got the luck of being assigned to some case, it was known to be smart and finish the case with insufficient proof, arresting some random small thug to shut up the press. Jackson couldn't deny he had made that three or four times. He remembered he was just as earnest as Yugyeom in the beginning, but soon he found out how being stubborn just accelerated his way down the work; the looks of mocking and the shun he faced from the others quickly put him back in his place - he was nothing - and persisting was going to make him end up dead. 

Jackson wanted to say all that to Yugyeom, to see if he could protect him for just a little longer, but the youngest wasn't hearing him. In that moment, his hazel eyes stared right ahead, narrow eyelids and concentrated look. He hadn't touched his coffee now, and he was as still as an alarmed animal, trying to make himself disappear in the middle of passersby. 

"What is it?", Jackson asked in a slight lower voice, attention snapped and making his body rigid with tension. The air was stiff and heavy, and Yugyeom's leather jacket felt stuffier and unwieldy.

"There's a man hiding in that alleyway, he is carrying a gun, a pistol", Yugyeom barely moved his lips as he spoke, hiding it behind the can while he faked a sip, "I think he is going to murder someone".

Jackson looked discreetly in the direction of a hot dog truck parked near the alley, and saw a skinny man in jeans and black pullover in his peripheral vision, body tense as if preparing for a run.

"Hyung, we might need to seize him... I'll go buy a hot dog and you go the other way to ensure he can't escape through the back", Yugyeom instructed lowly, not moving an inch, "if I get much close I might trigger him into firing, but I need to get closer to know his target", he continued, and smiled loosely, "okay, wait for me", he said with a normal tone again and went strolling towards the truck before Jackson could reject him. 

Jackson hissed, now needing to go the other way. He went walking to the nearest street to go around the block. All this while mumbling dissatisfied when drinking his coffee, thinking how much of a pain this was. He didn't enjoy arresting petty criminals who pointed guns aimlessly, not knowing how to even handle one. The force used special guns, since they couldn't just point it at everyone and get away with it. The Magnum every man carried was shiny and had a serial code registered near the handle, letters and numbers the exact same of their owner's registration in the city hall. The had an automatic aim, so it was fairly easy when you pointed your smart watch towards your target. Jackson's gun was pitch black with red serial, and he passed his thumbs lightly in them, hid under his jacket, and finished the least of his coffee before he went cover beside the end of the wall of the alley. 

"In position", he whispered, the shining gadget stuck in his left ear like a long earring sending the message to Yugyeom's. 

Yugyeom was in front of the hot dog truck, smiling amicably at the clerk while the man talked about his family and how he came to be a cook of hot dogs. Yugyeom munched his simple hot dog, taking this chance to swiftly push the tiny button in one of his silver rings to activated his contact lenses. Soon his vision became yet more polluted with neon lights and an infinitude of blue letters with the information on all the people in his ray of vision. The hot dog man had a previous problem with the police, but seemed to be clear of any suspicions. Yugyeom nodded at him and pretended to rub his ear, and then his lenses focused on the still man in the alleyway. 

NAME: JEON JEONGGUK

AGE: 21 YEARS

HEIGHT: 178 CM

BIRTH PLACE: MANDEOK-DONG, BUSAN, SOUTH KOREA

EXPAND? _yes _no

_yes

RELATIVES: ........

ONE BROTHER

\- JEON JEONGHYUN

PARENTS? .......

\- DEAD IN A CAR ACCIDENT 

FORMATION? ........

\- NO RECORDS

"Tsk", Yugyeom clicked his tongue and kept searching, his time going away when the boy started to load his gun.

PAST RECORDS: 

open the files? _yes _no 

_yes

............

......

NO RECORDS

"Hyung", Yugyeom called slowly "the guy doesn't have records of past crimes. This is the first time", he said, conflicted. Maybe if he talked to the guy, he'd have a chance of stopping this mistake.

Jackson's breathing hitched and he squeezed his gun, evening his breathing for a moment "Yugyeomie, I know what you are thinking, but please don't do anything harsh. You don't know what this guy might do". Jackson wanted to desperately look their way right now, but if he did that, maybe he would be spotted "please, let's seize him and take his gun, then you talk to him", he pleaded. Yugyeom wasn't looking directly at the boy until now, and he didn't like it. That man was his own age, some months older, and yet he was in the other end of life. There must be some explanation to why he was there. They were young and hot-headed and Jeongguk seemed like a pretty boy from some wealthy family, since his clothes were from famous brands. 

"I'll just talk to him", he said to Jackson, and the other began talking in his ear to not do that before taking his gun away. But Yugyeom didn't listen. He felt strangely compelled in that instant to know the guy's motives and help him before this got messy. He thanked the clerk and said his hot dog was amazing before he walked to the sidewalk. Throwing the hot dog in a near trashcan, he took off his police jacket and threw it soon after, now the only thing covering him from the frost cold of the city was a black high neck pullover. Covering his earring with his long black hair, Yugyeom stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets, looking down at his leather army boots. He felt his holster poking against his back, the guns' cane pushing up his pullover until the cold night's air made him tremble. No one noticed. 

Jeon Jeongguk was getting closer and his lenses focused on his face, new command appearing in his vision when he caught sight of the gun in his trembling hands: a Beretta pistol, handy, small, perfect for hiding beneath clothes. Yugyeom smirked, thinking this guy might just know what he was doing, even if he was trembling nonetheless.

"I'm approaching the suspect", he said in a puff of hot air and Jackson tensed in preparation for the action. 

Jeongguk saw Yugyeom, their eyes met when Yugyeom was just a mere centimeters away, and he hid the gun behind his back.

"Hey", Yugyeom greeted with a smiling voice, taking his hands off his pockets to press them together "it's cold isn't it? Do you know of a place where I can buy a pair of gloves?", he said, his lenses now focusing on Jackson, approaching them from behind with silent footsteps. He smiled again at the guy, "you know, I just loved your style sense! I have a friend that likes to call himself a fashionista and he always says I don't have the slightest sense of style", he kept talking loosely, but Jeongguk was tense in quiet distrust.

"I don't know where you can buy gloves. Why don't you try walking in on a clothes store?", he answered hurriedly with a bite, and then started to dodge Yugyeom, but he was much taller, and put himself in front of him.

"Hey, I'm just making conversation", he said, but then Jeongguk held his gun rapidly towards his chest and his bloodshot eyes focused on him.

"Get out of my way! Or I'll shoot, you fucker", he warned in a trembling voice, and Yugyeom very slowly raised his hands.

"Easy, easy... I'm just trying to help... I don't know what you intend to do with that", he pointed with his eyes to the gun and back at Jeongguk's face "but trust me, you don't want to mess your life doing something you'll regret", his voice was calm, but the man didn't look like he was going to back down. Yugyeom felt that slight cold envelop his chest, even if the air was still and freezing, now he felt like his body was in the same temperature. 

"You don't know anything about me, so I suggest you walk away", he answered, pressing his gun further in Yugyeom's chest. In their position now, the shadows of the tall buildings were concealing them from the rest of the people walking about and Yugyeom's mind started racing while he tried to come up with a plan. If anyone noticed their interaction, the chaos would erupt and with the running around, they would miss Jeongguk in the middle of people. And the guy seemed to know that; he looked beyond Yugyeom's shoulder at the passersby and pressed Yugyeom with the gun so he would back away again to plain view. And maybe his eyes were painted with fear, but the hold on his gun was strong and determined. Yugyeom gulped and took a step back, looking with his peripheral vision at an out of focus Jackson, whom stopped getting closer when he noticed the gun pointed at Yugyeom. The youngest could see him waving his head in a resigned manner, gesturing for Yugyeom to step away and let the guy go. Or else... The threat was in the air. 

But Yugyeom couldn't put people in danger, so without thinking much and swallowing his hesitation, he drove his arms down to try and take the gun away from him. But just as fast as he did that, Jeongguk reacted pulling the trigger, and even if the bullet hit the ground, the resounding dry sound of the shot made people scream and run away. And in that moment Jeongguk pushed Yugyeom while he was distracted by the screams to flee in the middle of the people, leaving his pistol with Yugyeom. 

"WAIT", Yugyeom started to run after him, Jackson's voice loud behind him, screaming in his communicator. His lenses started to flicker with faces and information on all the turmoil and Yugyeom felt dizzy. The only thing that made him go forward was the tip of Jeongguk's head in the see of people, but he was getting far very quickly. He turned streets and alleys, running like a mad man and stumbling on people, being pushed around every other time, getting more and more frustrated as Jeongguk's aim disappeared from his vision "dammit".

Fuck. He got away.

II.

The night was cold, icing cold.

It made his body ache all over, his teeth clattering and his skin dry. He curled up more, hugging his legs closer, until a sharp pain passed inside his nerves and a twinge near his right elbow made his body tense painfully with the sensation. There was this piercing whistle, pounding flesh of his head throbbing so hard he could hear it. He opened his eyes, vision blurry, unfocused, not lingering on anything in particular as the world spun around him. Beyond the acute whistle, he heard screams, shrill and loud, coming from everywhere. It took a while until he saw colors again, and then the screen in front of him gained a significance: he was sprawled in a telephone booth, black, cold metal against his back, head leaning painfully against the glass. He hesitated to move his arms away from his legs, because any small movement sent another sharp pain cursing through his body. He had two fractured ribs and cuts near his lips, because when he hissed in pain, he felt the skin pull and sting. The pain almost drowned him out of consciousness again, but a sleeping fear awoke his mind. He needed to get out of there. Now.

Jinyoung got up, his head throbbing with a headache so painful he felt like his skull was cracking. He looked around, he didn't know where he was, he just knew this name instinctively: Park Jinyoung. He looked around and saw police cars and sirens blaring all around him. He looked at his hands, slick, velvety and yelling red blood soaking his clothes, leaving fingermarks in the phone booth he was. Jinyoung didn't know who he was. He just knew he had to escape. 

With difficulty, he pushed his body up by grabbing the handle in the booth, cursing when his body failed with the twinges in his nerves. He was going to faint soon, but he didn't think: he just tried to open the glass door, but it didn't budge. Jinyoung started to panic, forcing the handle down with all the force he had left, until all his body weight pushed him against the glass, that Jinyoung noticed was already cracked a second too late. And when it snapped, he went dently tumbling against the solid ground. He let out a silent scream when his bones hurtled into the cold cement, thousands of neon lights leaving his head in a daze as he forced his heavy body against the gravity pulling him down. If he permitted his mind to wander for a moment, his fear was going to overwhelm him. He saw the police cars far ahead and started to stumble towards the sidewalk, unbuttoning his button white shit that was covered in red blood. Jinyoung tried to ignore the metallic taste in his mouth, praying that all this blood wasn't his. His entire torso was a mixture of red, purple and greenish of burst veins; he tried no to look and not to flinch, because the nipping cold air made all his bristles rise. He tossed his shirt in the nearest garbage, and finally looked around, capping his body the best he could with painful arms. He vaguely recognized where he was, near the shopping areas, all the way downtown. His head started hurting again when he tried to remember something more, and he almost crouched down, shivering and tired. Jinyoung wanted to cry for help, and he noticed that where previously had lots of people screaming, now he found himself alone with bunches of holograms, papers and abandoned cars. He looked up and saw some of the thousands of windows with the lights on, but besides that, there really wasn't anyone around. When he strained his ears, he could still hear screaming in the distance, and something more. Something like the sound of leaking, of blowing. Jinyoung stopped walking, trying to see where the noise was coming from, and he noticed that the lights he thought were the usual neon boards were actually the bright red and white colors of police cars coming to where he was. He couldn't think, he just tried to run, run to the first place that took him away from the plain view of streets, a narrow corner that led to a badly lit alley.

Jinyoung was so cold and he wasn't even sure why he was running; he just knew all his body screamed at him to get away. He finally saw people when he exited in some kind of side street, pressing tightly the ugliest purple blotch near his fractured ribs and kept going, even if some would look at him with curious stares. He was after all, top bare in a cold of 5º Celsius with lots of scratches and bruises, even so, in that society people were so accustomed to this kind of view they didn't bat an eye. They probably thought he was one more drunk who got into a fight over some luxury prostitute or lost all his bitcoins in a bet. The remnants of blood in his trousers and his hands made him uncomfortable, and he kept rubbing his hands to see if the blood would disappear, but all he managed to do was hurt his already sore knuckles. When he got to the street corner, he sat reclining against the colorful wall of a closed store, and while he continued frenetically rubbing his hands like a mad man, the tears left his eyes in long streams, and he cried desperately, not knowing even if his name was Jinyoung, why he was hurt and why he had that much blood in his clothes. There were police cars everywhere and maybe they were looking for him. His body flinched when he thought maybe he'd done something bad to someone, that maybe he was a criminal.   
  
Jinyoung didn't think of himself as capable of hurting someone, but what would he know in that state? Right now he even thought of burning his clothes to get rid of any evidence. He might not know who he was, but he certainly knew what happened to people who went to prison. But those thoughts haunting his mind just made his head hurt even more. 

Nobody stopped to see if he was alright, if he needed something; and Jinyoung thought that he perhaps didn't deserve any help, but he couldn't stop his tears for feeling left out, for feeling forsaken and judged. He was frustrated to think humanity had lost all compassion, and seeing someone hurt and topless in winter didn't even attract some charity. But he couldn't be here for much longer; Jinyoung needed to go somewhere, to discover who he was and maybe get some clothes and supplies to mend his wounds. He sighed profoundly once, gaining courage to summon strength in his legs and feet to push him up, dragging his back against the wall. Huffing with his eyes closed tightly by the pain of moving, Jinyoung managed to walk some steps in the direction of a coarse thrift shop, where was in display some racks with cheap clothes. He looked inside the store by the reflection in a car parked in front and made sure the clerk couldn't see him before he scrounged a simple jersey and a scarf. He felt bad for stealing something, but swore to himself not to forget the name of the shop "Miracle Bells" and that someday when he got money and his memories back, he would come back and pay them. He went to the alley he used to escape the empty street before and sat in a trashcan to put the clothes, wailing when the fabric brushed against his wounds. When he finally managed to put on the jersey, he breathed slowly, a hand pressing his ribs painfully, and let himself rest for ten seconds before he wrapped the yellow scarf tightly around his neck, hiding his gashed mouth beneath the knitting. 

When he found himself fully dressed, Jinyoung closed his eyes and let the smooth cotton soothe his cold body, feeling his muscles relax a little at the tiny comfort. He then sighed, faced again with his situation; he still didn't know anything, and was acting most instinctively to some voice in his head. He had some notion of his whereabouts, even if he didn't even know if he lived in this city or not, and was familiarized with the ways the scenario worked in neon and bright colored lights floating around cranky people. Then he tried to remember all the facts since he opened his eyes in that phone booth. He was wearing social clothes, albeit not too formal, so he was probably going somewhere fancy or at least to meet someone. His hair wasn't styled, but that was probably because of his current situation. He is wearing a black par of sneakers and didn't have anything with him when he woke up, so he must have fled the place he was before, but he couldn't explain the blood. Looking around, Jinyoung still felt like he could hear the low rumbling of something metallic leaking... Tubes? The city pipes? 

Now, if he paid attention, Jinyoung could feel a minor, almost non existent din, that normally he would disregard and just bypass, but the trepidation in the ground made his mind strangely alert. He got up, still holding his ribs, and with the other hand pressed the scarf tighter to his face and took hesitant steps towards the empty streets ahead. The muffled noise of police cars still roamed like a ghost, so Jinyoung just reclined against the wall and went on tiptoes until he reached the border, putting the tip of his head out just enough to see the streets. And sure enough, the cars were making a circle around the block, at least twenty officers putting yellow insulation strips near the buildings. He saw one man screaming orders to the other men, his navy jacket up highly in his neck, with a big presence for someone relatively short. 

Jinyoung tried to listen to any of the orders to see what they were after, and thought that maybe that was a scene of a crime; his crime, since the phone booth where he was collapsed was by the buildings. With that many police officers, Jinyoung knew why there weren't many people around. 

III.

Yugyeom was pursuing Jeongguk when his earplug started to emit static noises that almost made him deaf. He tried rolling the tiny button to find Jackson's frequency, because he had lost the suspect anyway, and Yugyeom consoled himself thinking that at least he wouldn't harm anyone now that he had his hand gun. He stopped in a place with less people, the ruckus lessening as well, and looked at the pistol carefully before stowing it in his belt, clamping it tighter until his guts were compressed and the tip of his belly plumped upwards. He sighed, turning his smart blue watch in to see the colorful translucent screen appear in front of his eyes, reflected in his contact lenses. He closed the ads pages popping up and opened the paste with the files he stored whenever he came across a suspect, creating a new one for JEON JEONGGUK, and transferred all the information, images and videos recorded in the chase, as well as their interaction. He would look at it calmly later and see if he could find something. He looked at the clock, it passed approximately fifteen minutes since he approached the subject and raced to where he was now standing.   
Yugyeom looked at the street, trying to find the name plaque, but stopped short when he noticed the eerily silence he was in. The panicked people running were nowhere to be found, and before he could realize that even after a gun attack this would be at least strange, a notification popped up in front of him and he accepted the invitation of "kingwang" to a message. Blue shiny letters started to be typed as Yugyeom looked around him one more time, and he finally understood that Jackson was trying to tell him he called the force to isolate the block where he chased the boy Jeongguk.

"Just because of a boy?", Yugyeom asked disbelievingly, blue letters copying what he said in form of a message. He tried again to fix the earplug, but something seemed to be affecting the signs, so he gave up and opened the archive of the map, seeing a bunch of little red points with the names of his colleagues "Jackson Wang", he instructed, and one of the points illuminated brighter and a route to Jackson started to give him directions. 

Yugyeom was still blaming himself for letting the suspect escape, and he even caused a lot of trouble and made people panic, but even so, he thought that Jackson's decision to close the area was an overreaction to say the least. The guy was unarmed and was just one, or maybe he didn't notice something when he perceived him. He was getting closer to where the police was gathered near a building, some officers already putting the isolation strings, and he started to think there was something very wrong. 

"Hyung, why did you call for reinforcements? And why are we closing the area?", he asked, with a strange sense of foreboding, the blue letters being written slowly to Jackson. It wasn't the only gun? Someone died? It was his fault?

Yugyeom's body became colder, even if he was still sweaty from the run. He rubbed his fingers together, as if praying for nothing serious to happen. And then he saw movement in the corner of his eyes. Just barely, something he could have missed if he wasn't so alert. Jeongguk? The person had the same height. Yugyeom started to walk the slowest he could without being suspicious; he couldn't afford to lose the suspect again. The problem was: his lenses only worked when he looked directly at his target, and Yugyeom was never so frustrated with technology. Future? As if. 

He then murmured very slowly, barely parting his lips "Hyung, I think there is someone watching us", and the message was transcribed, but he didn't get an answer from Jackson. He was screaming for the men to call the chief and to warn the press not to arrive. Yugyeom didn't understand anything; what in the bloody hell was happening over there?

So Yugyeom slipped his hand quietly behind his back, feeling the holder of the gun with the tip of his numb fingers before he carefully caught it with a nervous sigh. He didn't need to be nervous, he wasn't going against a group. When he prepared his mind to turn and aim the gun at the mysterious shadow, the person in question trembled in wobbly legs and fell on his knees. Yugyeom took the chance and dashed towards him, noticing that his earplug started to work with static again, Jackson's frantic voice yelling in his ear. 

"Yugyeom, get ---f ou-- get--aw--do-.. you =-- ar?!"

Yugyeom was close, and from the color of his clothes, he wasn't Jeongguk. The guy crouched down was whimpering while he pressed the side of his torso, body seemed so weak he was on the verge of collapsing. 

"Hyung, wait, I think there is someone hurt!", he answered back, but Jackson's voice was cut off, and Yugyeom unplugged the damn thing, and walked slowly towards the guy in the ground.

He was leaning against the wall, body hunched over and half of his face hid behind a yellow scarf. He was obviously trying to hide his identity. But he looked like he was hurt, so Yugyeom approached gingerly and squatted near him.

"Hey, are you alright? This block is being isolated because there was an attack, I need to ask you to go find some shelter... Can you walk?", Yugyeom waited for an answer or for him to bolt, so he still secured his gun tightly, but the guy just started to wheeze in his scarf, more and more loudly "Hey, are you alright?", he asked again, moving closer and putting the gun away in his holster again, and reached a hand tentatively towards the guy's arm. 

"I'm... I can't breath...", he whispered back with a painful gasp, and Yugyeom tensed. He never took care of someone having an attack. That's what was happening, right? The man was having some sort of respiratory failure or maybe a panic attack.

"Okay, uh, I need you to release your air passage, you need to look up a little, can you do that?", he instructed, trying to remember his first aid course he was obliged to go to during his academy days, "this happens frequently? I'm sorry", he said politely, "excuse me". 

Yugyeom gently touched the man's face, in the curve of his jaw that was peeking, and the first thought that appeared in his mind was how soft his skin was. He was also very hot, so Yugyeom knew he had a high fever. He forced the guy to lift his head, slowly and delicately, and then he finally saw his face. He wasn't Jeongguk, his face was not one Yugyeom recognized. His lenses had stopped working together with his earplug because of the interference, so he didn't know his name, nor his age, nor his past and his family. But Yugyeom felt like he knew him, even if from just passing by in the street. This man was probably older than him, and he was the most beautiful person Yugyeom ever saw in his life. He usually wasn't one to notice someone's beauty, but he was struck by how gorgeous his eyes were, and the outline of his face, and the shape of his lips, the young cop thought when he pushed the scarf down to reveal them. But then he noticed the gruesome cut in his lower lip, and snapped back to the real issue. This man was hurt, and he needed to take him to the hospital. He needed to warn Jackson, but there was no time and the communication was cut. Things seemed to be controlled in their end, even if Jackson screaming in his ear before told him otherwise. 

Yugyeom looked at the man again, biting his lips, feeling conflicted, but then decided to scoop him up, carefully picking him up bride style, hearing the man's soft and smooth voice moan dragged in excruciating pain. 

"I'm going to take you to the hospital, okay? Don't worry, I got you".

Yugyeom had the sensation the man was trying to tell him not to go, his eyes seemed so horrified with fear Yugyeom held him a little tighter. The man clung to him, grabbing a handful of fabric from his black pullover and holding for dear life. Yugyeom didn't know what made that guy so scared, but he promised to himself he would protect him. He looked so fragile, and maybe he was attacked or assaulted, Yugyeom thought, dark memories coming back in the back of his mind. Bad people always seized the opportunity when something happened. 

"The pipes... Pip-", the man in his arms tried to say something, and Yugyeom lowered his head to try and hear it again, but it was too late. When he got up, looking around, he heard again Jackson's scream in his malfunctioning earplug, and then the sound of gas quickly escaping, and then there was an explosion and he saw just a big and hot orange smoke coming towards him. 

IV.

Jinyoung was leaning against the wall, and he saw the short policeman screaming about a leaking and to stop the press. He wanted to listen some more, in hopes of hearing his name, or something that could clue him on who he was, but his body was trembling and he was assaulted suddenly with a stabbing pain so powerful he lost his breath. Then he realized he couldn't breath properly after that. He tried to concentrate his hazy mind to calm down, but he was scared and hurt, and his body was overcome with a wave of heath that suffocated him inside those clothes. He needed to get away, something was going to explode, he heard a little voice saying inside his head, but his body didn't obey him. He had the impression of seeing someone move in front of him, getting closer, and he started to panic. How would he explain what he was doing there? Why he had blood in his hands and cuts and bruises all around? How would he tell that person he didn't know his name, but knew in his gut he couldn't go to the hospital or the police station. 

Jinyoung thought that was the end, his legs had failed him; and he fell disgracefully on his knees. He never wanted so much to be ignored right now. The fear prickled his scorching skin and he tried in an useless last attempt to hide his face before the other got to him. What Jinyoung didn't expect was for the strange to ask if he was alright. His entire body ached, and his consciousness was slipping every second he tried to keep together, but the voice talking to him soothed his nerves a little. There was something about this stranger's voice that had a calming effect on him. It was a thin voice, somewhat childish, nasal, but in a melting way, as if he was lulling someone to sleep; and Jinyoung wanted to melt in his embrace. The guy kept talking, but he was so concentrated on his voice to avoid turning off, he didn't catch everything he said. Somewhere along the way, he felt a gentle touch in his chin, moving his head slowly up. Even in the middle of all the pain and twofold, he could see the warmth in the other's almond shaped hazel eyes. It was such a beautiful color, like melted chocolate or a whisky shot illuminated by a yellow light. He smelled of vanilla, a swift smell he shouldn't be able to catch normally, and even with the soft disposition, he had one sharp jaw and high nose. He looked like an angel, and Jinyoung made an effort to tell him he couldn't breath properly. The guy seemed to panic for a second, looking unsure of what to do, but soon Jinyoung was calmed and the man managed to scoop him in his strong arms, and Jinyoung felt protected, even if his bones screamed in protest. 

He nearly let himself faint in those arms, but then the blowing noise came to his mind and he grabbed the man's shirt, looking at him overcome with fear. It was going to explode. 

Unfortunately, he didn't have enough strength, and he felt the hot air before there was a powerful flash. 

V.

Yugyeom wasn't sure yet what had happened. His body had reacted on instinct and he jumped behind a dumpster, even if one of his shoulders got burnt. He groaned, huffing rapidly and directed his eyes to the man in his arms. Apparently the fire didn't catch him, but the hot air made his breathing worse, and black smoke was making Yugyeom suffocate as well. He didn't have time for injuries and with every once of strength left in him, he held the man closer to his chest, trying to cover his nose in the fabric of his pullover, and started to run away from there, towards the other end of the alley they were, and found there were only some people scattered, with scared eyes and curious mouths. He needed help, but Yugyeom needed the man's permission to go to the hospital; but he didn't forget the fright in his eyes. After sighing annoyed, he sprinted towards his own house. He needed to see what the man had first, and then he would decide what to do.

When Yugyeom reached a big street far away from the place they were, he hailed a cab that was just parking in the road-side and entered, speaking with a desperate voice to the cabbie to hurry up. He didn't want to be rude, but he feared the man was going to get worse. When he gave the address and the driver sped up, he adjusted the hold on the stranger and took of his scarf, seeing in the gaps of the jersey he wore the beginnings of a dark and long bruise that went all the way down his chest. 

"Sorry, excuse me", he whispered in a tiny voice, physically flinching when he saw the dark purple painting the man's torso, swollen and pulsing with his difficult breathing. Yugyeom quickly took a switchblade from his jean's pocket and ripped the jersey, and then he started to feel the bruises, what made the man whimper more "I'm sorry... You're going to be alright, don't worry...", he promised, even if he knew the man wasn't hearing him. 

"Isn't it better if I take you two to the hospital?", the driver, an old man with well taken care of goatee asked, worried, seeing them both from the rearview mirror. 

"We can't... There is some issue... I need to get home as soon as possible. Yugyeom realized what he was asking was weird, so he added "I'm a police officer, there was an attack, but I don't know what happened". 

This wasn't really a good excuse to not go to the hospital, but the man seemed frightened and he wasn't going to explain it to the oldie. But he seemed to gather their situation wasn't simple to explain, because he didn't asked more questions and accelerated even more. Yugyeom felt the pulse on the stranger's neck and was worried with how quick his heart was beating; the man's body was shining with sweat and when he thought that, the guy started choke, quick breaths getting out heavy and noisy. Yugyeom felt the world wrench around him. 

"He is suffering from cardio-respiratory arrest, you need to calm down and do mouth to mouth resuscitation, three times, hard, with breaks of three seconds. Then you need to press with your wrists closed, in breaks of five seconds, his chest, above the heart", the cabbie said, looking at him for fleet seconds while he drove. 

Yugyeom was so surprised, he didn't know how that man could be so calm giving those explanations, but he didn't think twice before he descend his face and cradled the man's face in his hands to press their lips lightly to blow air in his lungs. He did it the exact way instructed, his heart beating out of his chest when he looked at the scrunched up expression in the man's face. He kept doing rounds of blowing and pressing his heart in a massage, until the stranger stopped wheezing and trembling. his body feeling heavier in Yugyeom's arms when he slept with a agonized look. 

"The worse passed, but you really need to treat those wounds before his fever gets worse", the old man said, stopping just in front of Yugyeom's little duplex, the round, old and oxidized silver numbers informing them they arrived. Yugyeom never felt happier seeing his house than now.

"Thank you very much, sir... I feared the worst would happen if you didn't tell me what to do...", Yugyeom said sheepishly, feeling embarrassed for panicking. 

The old man laughed heartily and waved his head in denial "it's alright kiddo", he said, and then became serious, sighing sadly "look, I don't know why you want to avoid the hospital or if you are running away from something-"

"I'm not! It's just that-"

"Please, you don't need to explain", the old man raised his hand to stop him, and continued in a comprehensive voice "my son's line of work can be very secretive and violent, so I know not to ask too many questions when he comes home looking like you two are. But please, if you need something, just give me a call. I used to work as a doctor, so I can be of some help", the man said and picked one of the business cards stuffed in his breast pocket, giving it to Yugyeom.

RAYMOND TUAN - CAB AND PRIVATE DRIVER

NUMBER: XXXX-XXXXX

Yugyeom felt immensely thankful and bowed his head the lowest he could manage with the stranger still in his arms. 

"I don't know what to say... Thank you so much, mister Tuan!", he said, taking the man in his arms again.

"There is no need for thanks, you take care of him, and yourself too. He appears to have fractured his ribs, but it doesn't seem to be broken, so you need to lay him and let him rest. Put ice and if you have painkillers and some ointment to put in the other wounds and the cut on his lips, I guess it will suffice. Try to immobilize him and tell him not to move his arms around, his bones will mend themselves with some time. But if you can, please go to a hospital.", the man said again almost fatherly, and Yugyeom thanked him again, getting out of the car with some difficulty, bumping his head on the way. 

He looked one last time to the man, smiled thankful and hurried to his door, pressing the doorbell insistently. His pullover was singed in his right shoulder, as well as his neck, and maybe his ear, because it was hurting like a bitch. Yugyeom felt his legs tremble from the effort of carrying the stranger and the physical exertion now that the adrenaline was leaving him. His muscles were sore, so when the door opened and he saw the worried face of Youngjae greet him, he almost started wailing. 

"Gyeomie?? What happened? Who is that?", the older asked, instantly becoming pale with shock and worry "You are hurt too!"

"I'm sorry, hyung, but I need to take care of him, I promise I'll tell the details later, but now I must hurry", he jostled the words and dodged Youngjae to hurry through the stairs.

The older followed him, not wanting to know about anything "let me help bandage you two, I won't ask anything... I know you work with secret information, but I promise I won't say anything"!", Youngjae pleaded, but Yugyeom couldn't explain this situation, and he didn't want Youngjae to see the stranger's face. He didn't know why, but he felt protective over him, and something told him not to trust anyone, even someone as angelic and caring as Youngjae.

"Open!", he said to the automated door, that opened with a click. He turned to Youngjae with an apologetic expression "I'm sorry, I'll talk to you later", Yugyeom said, closing the door forcefully with is foot when Youngjae tried to enter the apartment complex in the second floor. 

Yugyeom sighed, finally feeling safe. He quickly went to his double size bed and laid the man carefully above his moomin coverlet. He felt shy seeing his childish coverlet, but it was with him since he lived with his parents and it made him feel protected. He pushed it over the man's body til his waist, leaving his torso exposed. He went to his bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit he had for emergencies, taking it to the bed and sitting on the border. Following mister Tuan's tips, he took the ointment for cuts and bruises and squeezed some of the gel in his index finger, applying it in the cut in the man's lower lip, seeing him squeeze his eyes tightly due to the pain. 

"Just a moment... Soon the pain will get better..." he said. Yugyeom thought he was saying it to calm himself more than the stranger, who kept sleeping. 

He made a quick work of cleaning the wounds with alcohol, soothing the other with soft whispers of comfort when his body flinched in pain. He didn't know if salompas helped at all with fractured bones, but he used the entire box and glued them above the purpler parts. He took his temperature, bandaged his cuts and cleaned his body with a wet cloth, lastly putting the cold cloth in his forehead. 

Yugyeom slumped in a chair he put beside the bed, breathing freely for the first time when he saw the man's breathing calm and his expression relax. His fever seemed to persist, but not strong enough to cause pain. Yugyeom separated painkillers and fever reducing pills in the nightstand, with a cup of water, and after covering the man, he started to apply ointment for burns in his ear, neck and shoulder, after taking off his pullover. He decided to change his jeans and after putting band-aids in everything, he put a pair of fluffy gray sweaters that were loose enough to not brush against his burns, and sat in his desk work. He made sure the man was still sleeping and opened his drawer, whispering the password to the automated lock, and took a new pair of contact lenses, earplug and smart watch. He needed to contact Jackson and tell him he was fine. He waited for the backup of the new gadgets, looking at the ones he was using when he was outside. He didn't know why they had static all of a sudden, but his systems seemed fried, the watch just flicked a few times before turning off for once.

"Lucky...", Yugyeom murmured to himself, smiling proudly for saving Jeongguk's information in the shared folder of his HD. He always did that because he had the tendency to forget and lose his things, not because he was a little unorganized, but Yugyeom acquired this habit, and he was happy for it now. 

When his new lenses adjusted the configurations and all that, Yugyeom tried calling Jackson, seeing his obnoxious picture with a superior look and topless he put for his profile picture appear, and after just two ringtones, Jackson's worried face appeared.

"Kim Yugyeom!!! Where are you??? Why the hell didn't you respond? Do you know how worried I was? Are you alright??? I tried to warn you to leave the area, but you didn't reply and then you logged off!!! You little shit!!! I was worried sick! You better give me a good explanation for this!!!", Jackson monologued in a frenzy, eager to show Yugyeom all the suffering he endured while waiting for news "I could't even localize you in the map! What in the fuck happened?"

Yugyeom sighed, feeling guilty, but then looked sideways to the stranger lying down on his bed, and for a split second he cogitated telling Jackson of him, but again, something told him not to tell. 

"I'm sorry, hyung... I heard bits of what you were saying, but there was an interference, and there was someone hurt in that alley, so I took them to the nearest hospital, but before I could do that, I got caught in the explosion, so I got a few burns... So I went straight home and asked for Youngjae-hyung to fix me up", he lied. Yugyeom told himself that was a half true, and after talking with the stranger, he was going to decide what to do with everything. 

He was tired and sore, and rubbed his eyes with his hands, taking the chance to lower the volume of the call, since Jackson was still screaming full force in his ears. He stopped listening halfway to it, focusing on starting his computer (the little shiny ball that had the same use as the smart watch) and he waited for the big screen to appear before him to send the folder "Jeon Jeongguk" to it, and seeing it in a bigger screen sure made things easier. 

"Hey, are you listening to me, you damn brat?", Jackson growled, with his brow ached so high they were hidden behind his disheveled bangs "I'm worried here!"

"You don't need to be, hyung, I'm fine. Just tired and sore, nothing a good night's rest won't resolve. Can you the boss for me I'm going tomorrow morning take my testimony and do my job? I just need tonight...", he pleaded with the better imitation of cutesy he could scrounge out, and after a long sigh, Jackson affirmed with a tired look.

"If you're not here by noon tomorrow, I'm calling the cops"

"We are the cops"

"Shut up and go rest you fucker", Jackson spat, but smiled in a brotherly way "Ciao, partner, see you tomorrow". 

And with a curt beep, the call was over. Yugyeom grinned, tapping his fingers in the table for a moment. Then he finally remembered he could see the stranger's information, and Yugyeom literally bolted from his chair to go to the bed, tentatively looking at the man as if discovering his true identity was some long awaited plot twist in a famous television series. He kneeled, and finally, with trembling anticipation, focused his lenses in the man's face. 

NO REGISTERS

"No registers??", Yugyeom parroted, a startle look on his face "how could this be??? Is this a case 707?, he murmured, fisting his hands without any clue what to do "what is his name...? What is your name, stranger?" He sighed, disappointed, but caught himself staring at the stranger's face. He sure was beautiful, even covered in bruises and ugly cuts. He looked like a prince, Yugyeom thought, snickering indignant "what the hell am I thinking? This man is probably a criminal... And here I am thinking he's beautiful..." he muttered, laying his head beside the other's in bed. 

"What...?", a voice muttered weakly, and Yugyeom's head snapped so fast his neck made a noise. 

"Oh, you're awake... Are you alright? Are you in pain? Take some painkillers, it will help", he says, helpful, and hands the pills and water to the man, just then realizing he might need help to sit "Oh, sorry, sorry, I'm stupid...", he said, closing his eyes and cursing at himself. After leaving the cup and pills in the nightstand again, he squatted and took the other pillow to put behind the other's back, helping him sit up and flinching whenever the other hissed in pain "sorry, here, take this", he offered the medicine again, waiting for the man to gulp it down after looking wary at first, but finally acquiescing after some nudges from Yugyeom. 

It took some time, the man gurgling the water and feeling his scratchy throat jouce his weak voice out again "Where am I?"

Yugyeom pursed his lips and sat in the chair he previously had put beside the bed and took a deep breath "In my house. You were terribly hurt, and when I said I going to get help you didn't look very... Comfortable with the idea... So I brought you to my house. Ah, don't worry, I'm a cop, so you're safe here", he said, smiling a little to try and lighten up the mood. The man looked fixedly at him all the while, and Yugyeom tensed under his blank stare, and after a few moments of awkward silence, opened his mouth again "I, uh, what were you doing there? Were you attacked?", he asked quietly, looking straight at him, but the other just denied with his head "No? So were you... Who attacked? You know, you have some serious injuries here", he continued, looking unsure "and I don't have any records from you... Did someone remove your identification chip?"

The man looked confused, knitting his brows as if Yugyeom was speaking in a different language. He sighed softly.

"Maybe it's too early for questioning... You need to rest. But first, can you tell me your name at least?", he asked hopefully.

The man opened his mouth, then closed it, avoiding his eyes. Yugyeom didn't know what that meant, but he felt so hopeless his shoulders slumped and he hissed with the pain, what caught the other's attention. He looked at Yugyeom's shoulder and neck and ear, all scorched from the earlier explosion, and his face contorted sorrowfully.

"I'm sorry for that..." he said quietly, barely a whisper, and started fiddling with the coverlet "I'm... I'm not sure who I am... I... I woke up without memories near the place you found me.", he said.

Yugyeom took all in, taking his time to swallow the news, and afraid of his hypothesis of a victim of abuse. He waved his head to scare the thoughts away and looked at the man with soft, gentle eyes.

"It's alright... I'm sure it will come back, and I'll try to help... There isn't anything, though? Some name that popped in your mind when you woke up?", he tried, adjusting the wet cloth that had fallen from his head. 

"I think...", the man started unsure, and finally met Yugyeom's eyes, and he felt a prickling in his chest "Jinyoung. Park Jinyoung."


	2. Prometheus' Pain - Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm back! Sorry it took so long, but I was a bit tired and then I went on vacation. I wanted to post it soon, so I divided the chapter in two so I can work longer on the rest of it. I don't have a beta reader so those are my mistakes. Leave comments so I can know if you guys are liking it!

I.

It was almost midnight by the time Mark Tuan made back to his office, a little rundown flat with way too many loose wooden blocks. He sighed exasperated, rubbing his face with two hands, and threw his shoes near the entrance to plop down in the couch, tired. His arm reached slowly towards the lamp by his desk and when the yellowish light illuminated his face, he almost groaned. At least this sleek light was always more comfortable for his eyes. 

Everything in his day until now had been terrible; his coffee was too sweet even if he ordered it from the same place for five years (something about changing the beans, the owner said), he couldn't get a hold of the documents to finish his case against the guy who murdered the child of the rich CEO who hired him and he received yet another pleasant news from the landlady: they would start some renovations in the entrance, so yay, stone breakers screeching in his ears starting the next week. But the cherry on the cake was when he was walking in downtown to arrange his monthly dose of morphine, there was some leaking and people screaming and they shooed everybody away. Now he was beginning to feel his abstinence crawl in his skin, in every corner, vein and cell of his body. Not that he hadn't felt this before, he certainly had - although not with so much papers to go through, he though, looking at the table - and the pressure of it all was overwhelming. He needed to sent the files soon, or else he would't get paid and no payment meant no morphine. Mark dissipated any cogitation of calling his parents to ask for money again; he couldn't bare to listen to them meddling in his way of living - he didn't want to be spoiled - because he knew his parents would give the world to him if he wanted, but Mark wanted to believe he was more than a rich kid. He sank more in the couch at the mere thought of it: corporate life was not for him. He wanted to be like the great detectives he read in old books, stored away in the library of his house. He loved to hear his mother tell him all about printed books, something that was so archaic nowadays nobody bothered to continue this line of business. But even so, he loved the sensation of paper in his hands, of tint smoothly crossing the paper as if his hand was skating. But now that he looked at the stack of unfinished reports and documents he wondered why he even bothered to do things the old way? It would be so much simpler to use a smart watch, they weren't even that expensive. 

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the robotic beat of a call, his lenses flaring up against his retina, making him close his eyes uselessly. He never liked those virtual experiences, his head hurt every time he saw the neon lights flashing inside his head. 

"Yeah, dad, what is it?", he grunted, eyes still closed even if he saw the blue screen with his dad's photo in front of him "I'm kinda busy right now".

"Of course you are, son, of course", his father replied with a snicker embedded in his voice. Mark almost turned off the phone, but he knew the consequences of that was a oncoming visit he wasn't excited to face. 

"Actually, I am, I was just taking a quick break when you called", he responded, voice whispery from his tiredness "How is mom?".

"Oh, you know, your mother is always busy shopping around and cooking. She says you must come have dinner with us this weekend. She will make hot pot, because it's your favorite", his father explained, as if showing how much care and affection they had put into the idea - in other words, this was an active bribery on the going.

"I'll see if I have time, dad, but things are kinda difficult at the moment", Mark said, finally resigning to sat up and stretch before walking towards the kitchen. He wouldn't get any sleep today, so he might as well try to advance some of his work, "I just started on a new case and it's very time consuming, I need my weekends to gather information", he added, opened his fridge in a mechanic way and grabbed a beer. He muddled with the lid for a while, but when he finally heard the popping sound, his lips curled up in a grin despite themselves. 

"You're still drinking your troubles away, my son?", Mark heard his father's voice drop one note in sadness "you know it isn't good for your health".

"If everything that tasted good were healthy I think humanity wouldn't have a reason to go to wars", he said sarcastically and toppled on his leather armchair, placing the beer near the other empty bottles flooding his desk "but I think you didn't call me just to invite me to family dinner? What happened?".

There was silence for a few moments, then mister Tuan sighed and started talking "Today when I was working in my taxi, near the shopping district downtown, a young boy came running with another in his arms, and they were terribly hurt...".

Mark stilled in the other side; he could almost see his father's face crumbling "Dad, you haven't started-"

"No, I'm not planning on going back to surgery, don't worry. It's just... I feel so useless when I see people in need and I know I can help", the old man sighed, defeated. 

The Tuans were a well-known family that owned the largest net of hospitals in Seoul and Mark's father was a notorious surgeon with a bright future, until an unhappy misfortune befell the family some years ago. Joe, Mark's little brother was part in an accident, and his father insisted on performing the surgery. Joe died in the middle of the procedure, and the family never was the same again. Raymond Tuan retired and dealt with only the corporate side of the business, the mother was so distressed she started shopping and spending money on clothes, jewelry and brand shoes, and Mark. Mark abandoned his house and fortune and decided to become the hero detective from his stories. But he knew none of them had moved on completely. 

"The young man, was he alright?", Mark popped the question, not wanting to show his curiosity.

"Yeah, he was. The one in his arms was worse, but I think they will be fine... It's just a little sad. He was just like your brother. Not appearance wise, but his mien. Just like our Joey", mister Tuan answered in a whisper, and Mark's chest tightened. He didn't want to think about his little brother, always running behind him, smiling. "I think they got caught in the attack that happened in the red zone".

Mark stopped his thought when his father said that, and he furrowed his brows to collect his thoughts "Wait, what? There was an attack downtown?", Mark inquired, straightening his back "tonight?"

Mister Tuan seemed surprised by his lack of information, and informed him that near the shopping district, in one of the busiest boulevards, there was a gunfire followed by a gas leak that caused an explosion, and the police force had secluded the area just before. Apparently the news were swarming with amateur recordings and speculations on the event. Mark was agape by this: he didn't even notice the commotion when he was there. He did remember some people running and some screams, but that was so common in that part of town he didn't even bat an eye (he didn't want to admit he was fucked off because of withdraws). He switched on the computer (an old model of something once called tablet) and opened the news page. There he found at least a dozen articles on the leaking, the shootout and depositions from people that were there at the time. Mark reclined in his chair, feeling the leather enfold him, and pressed two fingers on his temple. 

"Dad, I'm sorry, I need to get going", he said curtly, wanting to check something with certain urgency in his voice. Mister Tuan knew right away that something came up, so he said his goodbyes and made Mark promise to consider going to the dinner on Saturday.

When the screen shut down and Mark's vision was in reality again, he breathed in relief and then gloated his desk drawer. He reached a hand ponderously, breathing heavy, and folded his fingers around the handle, pulling it hesitant. There he found a lot of sparse papers and miscellaneous plastic wraps of coffee candy. But right on top, discarded among the trash, sat the strange note he found on his mail box in the morning. Nobody used letters or telegrams nowadays, so he just brushed it off as a prank from the children in the neighborhood, and went on with his day as always. He looked at the neat handwriting.

_Mister Detective Mark Tuan, I need your help. I'm going to be attacked today in the shopping district, if you could contact me until evening, I would be very happy._

_Please use this smart watch I packed together with this note to contact me. I'll be waiting for your answer._

Mark froze, the sour taste of his beer enveloping his throat and making him nauseous. The person who contacted him, what happened...? 

He jumped out of his seat, almost knocking down the bottles of empty beer with the force he pulled the drawers. He had stuffed the smart watch somewhere, and started a frenetic search, flipping papers and furniture until he found the pretty black box dropped near his full trashcan. He opened it, seeing the shiny watch he had thrown away mindlessly in his hurry to get some coffee in the morning. 

"Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck", he repeated, overcome with the need to punch himself and the walls. This was his fault. He could have stopped it. But maybe he yet had time; he must find out who called for his help. When he buttoned the black watch in his trembling wrist, Mark waited for it to light up in blue and start synchronizing with his lenses, the configurations taking way too long to load. He denied the updates while cursing, in a hurry to see the basic interface open and look at the contact information list. There was just one name: Kim Jisoo. "Kim Jisoo?", he read aloud, the name sounding familiar in his tongue. "Open files on Kim Jisoo", he ordered, but the search opened a dozen of pages on Kim Jisoos. He then noticed a folder with the title: INFORMATION FOR MARK TUAN.

With trepidation, he closed his eyes, the blue screen still glued to his cornea, and opened the file, seeing only two files, entitled "Picture" and "Narration". He opened the first file, which was encrypted and asked for a password. He cursed again. 

"Kim Jisoo?", he tried, but received a negative answer. "Picture?". Negative again. "Dammit!"

His head was hurting. The other archive was asking for a password too, but he hadn't the faintest idea of what it could possibly be. Mark decided to dig up more, see if there was anything he missed inside the watch's memory. He looked thoroughly for fifteen minutes, but found nothing. Mark sighed, frustrated, and let his body slump sluggishly in the hard floor, the back of his head hurt with the weight pressed against the blocks, but he just endured it with closed eyes. Then he tried again, voice so quiet he barely realized he had said it out loud.

"Open files on Kim Jisoo" 

But this time, the first article to appear, dated from today, twelve minutes ago, was the news of the murder of Kim Jisoo.

**Body of young girl found dead in the eleventh floor of a building in downtown**

**The police has isolated the local when was found dead the body of a young woman in her middle twenties in an apartment in the eleventh floor of a building in downtown. The police force in charge didn't pronounce any news from the case to our journalists, claiming the investigations were still undergoing. Apparently, the death of young miss Kim Jisoo, daughter of the new CEO of Neuromancer Synthetics, recently engaged to the heir of Im Corporation occurred during the shooting and gas leaking in the shopping district downtown that happened during yesterday night (XX/XX/XXXX), between nine and ten o'clock, according to the designated coroner.**

**"She was hit in the head strongly before being shoot five times in the chest. But what killed her was asphyxiation from the blood in her lungs", Doctor Kim SeokJin informed "it's a shame, she was very young and had a great future".**

Mark's brain turned off at that point, he could only feel his heart beating in his ears. He ignored her note and now Kim Jisoo was dead. But that wasn't the only thing he noticed, looking at the photo attached to the report, showing a young and beautiful girl with long, black hair. One sentence jumped at him: recently engaged to the heir of Im Corporation. Mark had a bad premonition, because he knew very well the heir since they were young: Im Jaebum, the striking handsome and successful soon to be CEO of the large monopoly of chips from Asia. In that recluse life of chaebols, Mark and Jaebum often saw each other as kids before Mark decided that life wasn't for him.

"That's where I heard from her...", he whispered, lowered brows "Fuck".

II.

"Park Jinyoung...", Yugyeom mused, looking fixedly at the face that now had a name, as if testing how it sounded on his mouth. He couldn't possibly know, but when Jinyoung heard his name in Yugyeom's mouth, he never felt like something was so right, so grounding in a world of uncertainties. "So... Jinyoung... I think you are older than me, so... Can I call you Jinyoung-hyung? I don't want to be disrespectful", he said, a slight smile creeping up his face. Jinyoung seemed surprised by the request, but smiled too, regretting almost immediately as his cut reopened and mixed blood with ointment. "Oh, my god I'm sorry! You don't need to keep listening to me, you're hurt... Go back to sleep, hyung, you need to rest. Don't worry, I'll watch over you", he added, sheepishly, when Jinyoung seemed jumpy at the idea of shutting down again.

"Okay... I will...Thank you very much...?"

"Yugyeom, Kim Yugyeom", the younger said, smiling at him.

Jinyoung wanted to ask why this stranger was helping someone he found near an attack scene who didn't tell his name and could be lying, but his body didn't have a lot of strength, eyelids closing without his permission. He didn't know why, but he felt safe here, he felt like Yugyeom wasn't going to betray him, so his body relaxed, all the adrenaline and pain going away in a soothing warmth. 

"Yugyeom... Thank you... Really."

It didn't take long for Jinyoung to sleep again, his breath steadying and muscles relaxing in the bed. Yugyeom stayed watching over him while he wondered why he was helping Jinyoung at all. Of course, it was his job, but in any normal day he would take a victim to the hospital. And now that he knew Jinyoung - if that was really his name - he didn't have a chip, so a lot of options were possible: he could be a fugitive, an indigent, an illegal immigrant or even a victim of assault. He didn't want to think about that, so Yugyeom got up from the chair, squeezing his eyes in reaction to his scorched skin straining. He needed to look again at the files from Jeon Jeongguk, but also had to do some research on Jinyoung, the old way. 

He trotted to the adjacent kitchen and pressed the button in the coffee machine, waiting for the bitter brown liquid to drip slowly in his favorite moomin mug, the taste of coffee in his tongue even before he actually took a swig. He stole a glance at the man sleeping on his bed briefly before prostrating himself in his work desk again, heaving a sigh when his lenses started to work again when he pressed his ring. He decided looking for Jinyoung was a more useful way of passing his time, so the first thing he did was to open the bank of missing chips and recent accident reports on stolen chips and see if he found a match for the name Park Jinyoung. He looked closely to all the names in the list, used the automatic search and even tried different ways of writing the name, but he didn't found a single lead. If his chip was lost or stolen, Jinyoung didn't go to the police. So this pegged the question: when did he lose the chip? The second search he made was on missing people, to see if a family member or someone was looking for Jinyoung, and even looked at photos of all the names in there just to be sure. He did a good four hours of searching, but nothing. There wasn't even a hint f who the hell was Jinyoung. 

Yugyeom looked over his shoulder at his bed, seeing Jinyoung sleeping peacefully, and his worries kind of melted a little. He didn't believe he was a bad person, he couldn't feel this from him. But the reality was that he didn't know that person at all and for all he knew, Jinyoung could be some great actor who was running away from something and managed to totally fool him. After sighing, he noticed the small movements of Jinyoung's eyelids and smiled a little. Something his mother always told him came to mind "Sometimes, you just need to trust your instincts", and perhaps this thought was naive, but he wanted to believe, and his instincts told him Jinyoung wasn't a bad person. He closed the open tabs on the screen and simply looked for Jinyoung's name, trying to find some information, photo or profile on the network. He opened any link and photo which seemed suspicious and gulped his coffee slowly, boredom overcoming him when all he found was no matchs. 

He decided to turn off the computer, after all, this search wouldn't lead to anything. He made a mental list of ways to find something about Jinyoung: he would check the police database in the manual archives and if he didn't find anything, the last place he could go is the city hall. If he was lucky, Jinyoung should have been born before the chips identification system was installed in year 2195. Another sigh escaped his bruised lips and after debating in his mind if he should leave Jinyoung alone in his house, Yugyeom tiptoed towards the bed and checked the other's face; the older seemed to be in a deep sleep and his brows were tight in a painful expression; Yugyeom didn't want to just touch the other without his permission, but he needed to see his wounds again. So very carefully, he lifted the coverlet and saw the older's chest rise quickly: he was having trouble to breath. The salompas he glued to the purple blotch in Jinyoung's torso were almost falling and the small cuts all around seemed to sting because of the sweat glistening in his entire body. His fever came back, apparently, and Yugyeom knew this was caused by the fractured ribs, the bruises seemed even darker than before. He couldn't take care of him here, he needed medical support. But he remembered the frightened eyes when he mentioned the hospital and if he was assaulted or something, it was understandable. 

Yugyeom spent the next hour cleaning his wounds again with alcohol, and dried the sweat with a little humid cloth. The pale face did get some color, but Yugyeom still wasn't sure what to do with the growing dark bruises and started to become anxious. What if this man died for his negligence? After thinking for a while, he decided to go downstairs and ask for his hyung's help. 

Youngjae was the owner of their little duplex that he inherited from his parents, and from the money he received from Yugyeom's rent, he went to medical school. He was still a freshman, only two years of studying, but Yugyeom decided his expertise was probably better than his own. So he opened the door and went slowly down the stairs, wary of maybe awakening Jinyoung. He found Youngjae in the kitchen, cooking something by the oven with crunched brows, looking far too intensely to the potato soup. 

"Hyung?", Yugyeom called timidly, his coated feet making stuffy sounds in the wood floor. He kind of gave the older a freak out and felt bad when he saw the worried eyes Youngjae looked at him with "I'm sorry about earlier, but I kind of was in the middle of an emergency and... Well..." his voice died when he saw the previous worried eyes fill with shiny tears. 

"Why are you all hurt, Yugyeom-ah? And who is that man? What is happening?", he started, voice and fists trembling "there was something in your work? Is he another officer? It's basically morning and you didn't even eat anything". Soon Youngjae's blabbing became more like a worried's mom nagging and Yugyeom came closer to hold his hyung. 

"I'ms sorry, I'm so sorry, hyung... It's... It's kinda complicated. I promise you I will tell you everything, just calm down, ok?" he said in a soft voice and made circular movements in Youngjae's back.

That seemed to work and Youngjae stopped shivering, but now he had an intense and furious look "You better explain things, sir, I was worried sick and couldn't even sleep!"

Yugyeom only noticed the bags around Youngjae's eyes and tired face when he pointed it out, but he smiled a little "I'm sorry okay...? But I need your help"

Youngjae looked at him full of suspicion, but turned off the oven and followed the youngest to his flat. Youngjae was horrified when he found Jinyoung all covered in bruises and cuts and strains. 

"Oh my god, Yugyeom, we need to move him to a hospital! His ribs are fractured, he probably has internal bleeding and he could get infected and might get worse..."

"I can't...", Yugyeom whispered in a miserable voice.

"Why the hell you can't??", Youngjae almost screamed "I've bandaged you up sometimes but this is beyond my capabilities! If he dies what happens then? Are you taking responsibility??"

"No" Yugyeom said frustrated "But I still can't, he doesn't want to go"

The older looked at Yugyeom with such wroth he recoiled. He couldn't tell him the whole story, it could be dangerous and he didn't know the details anyway, so he decided to lie. He felt like nothing could be worse than seeing the sheer horror painted in Jinyoung's eyes. So he lied about his burns, lied about Jinyoung's name and about how he found him. Jinyoung was Junior, he entered the country in search of a better life, but he was here illegally - he knew with this backstory Youngjae wouldn't insist on taking him to a hospital, nor tell anyone - and after he came, things didn't work out, his only family - a mother, had a disease, not something mortal or it would sound too much of a cliche, but bad enough to kill without proper medicine, a flu - and because they were poor, Junior started to sell himself and ended up getting abused by a bygone costumer. And now for the lie to be believable, he sprinkled some true: he found him during his patrol. He got separated from Jackson because of a gas leaking in downtown and came across Junior in an abandoned alley, he was already hurt and Yugyeom hurt himself in the way out because of the explosion that came from the leaking. 

At the end of the story, Youngjae was clutching his shirt so strongly Yugyeom feared it would rip. 

"That's why I can't take him, hyung... He doesn't have a chip and God knows what could happen with an illegal immigrant if we take him to a hospital..."

It didn't take much convincing after that for Youngjae to go fetch his medical things and send Yugyeom to the nearest drugstore to get more supplies. He came back running with a packet of bands and stronger painkillers. When he arrived, the older was still looking and carefully pressing near the blotched areas with a serious look that was so different from his usual goofy way Yugyeom was a little taken aback. After passing the things he bought to Youngjae, he helped him to lift up Junior gently and the older expertly rolled the bands all over his body till the chest, and when he finally was done and Junior was sleeping peacefully again, he fell to the ground and wilted in relief. 

"I was scared he fractured the ribs near his heart or lungs, because you told me he was having trouble breathing, but I don't think he did... He can sleep just fine like this, so he doesn't need surgery... Now he need rest for at least two months to recover. Not do any kind of exercise or strength needed routines, he should be fine with painkillers. I will ask my teacher from college and see if I can do something more, but for now, let him rest and not move around too much" After the torrent of explanations, Youngjae got up and looked at Junior, face contorted with sorrow "he is so handsome... Doesn't even look like a poor immigrant prostitute... It's a shame. I hope he gets better"

The so innocent and good Youngjae. Yugyeom couldn't be happier to live with him, from all people. 

"I know it's difficult for you seeing people in this estate, because of Bambam... But, Yugyeom-ah, he needs proper care... Maybe you can talk to your chief or something to arrange a job and place for him." Yugyeom stiffened and didn't even bother to actually show the strained smile that came on his face, and Youngjae stopped talking when he saw it, fear and pain corrupting his words. He opened his mouth again, but thought better and got up, hugging his arms "well, when he wakes, give him some of the soup I prepared. You too, eat something and take the day off today, ok? Pass the ointments in your burns and in his cuts and... Well, that's it. I need to get going to college, see you tonight".

III.

Jinyoung woke up to a warm and savoury smell; He was so hungry he could actually feel his stomach gurgling acid toward his larynx. When he opened his eyes, after a little resistance from his bloated face, the first thing he saw was Yugyeom. It was so astounding how his name came so easily to mind, the first thing he remembered immediately after waking up. Then he remembered the name Park Jinyoung and gradually the fear and memories of him in a phone cabinet, blood, pain and Yugyeom's gentle eyes telling him to rest. Everything came so quickly to his mind he got confused and so overwhelmed he started crying. It was not a cry of mere sadness or fear. It was a cry that used all of his lungs' power, as loud as a newborn and as broken as shattered glass. He didn't understand it himself, but maybe all his anxiety carried out all at once and he couldn't bear it. He saw Yugyeom's startled face and the boy went to him as if instinctively and this only caused the knot in Jinyoung's throat to come undone in more shivering cries. He was so thankful for this stranger he just met, he felt like there was good in this world and he felt protected. All kind of thoughts raced through his head.

He didn't know what to do to stop, and Yugyeom was just as lost, looking at him with eyes full of pity and sadness, it even seemed like he was the one hurting. And then, clumsily, with cheeks full of rosy blush, he awkwardly petted his head "there, there", he repeated, and Jinyoung felt like a dog. And then he started laughing through his tears just as hardly as he was crying, and only stopped when his injuries dragged out a painful moan. Here he was, lost in a world he didn't know about, no family, no money, nothing. Refugee in a house of a young, clumsy, naive and good-hearted cop. It was incredible, really, from how he woke full of someone's blood in his clothes, to being there, looking intensely in the eyes of a beautiful young man, who smiled back at him, scrunching his nose and letting out a joyful laugh, after embarrassedly retreating his hand. 

"I'm sorry..."

"You need to stop apologizing, you know", Jinyoung heard himself saying, voice still scrappy from lack of use. 

"I'm so- Uh, alright. Uh, actually, that's not important", he said, eyes bulging up like he just remembered the most important thing "the medicine! I had a friend help me to fix you up and apparently the fracture in your ribs is superficial, so just rest and painkillers should do it. You are in a lot of pain, right?", he asked, but didn't wait for an answer, grabbing a bottle of green pills from the nightstand and taking one circle that seemed way too big to be swallowed. But Jinyoung didn't complain and begin to raise his hand to get the medicine, except Yugyeom had other plans and stuck it out in front of his face "here, and then let's eat a little so your tummy doesn't hurt". 

He felt indulged, infant and happy all at the same and again, in the back of his mind, he just said what came to his tongue.

"My tummy?", he parroted, brows arched in barely contained amusement "I'm not a five years old, _Gyeomie_ ", he highlighted the diminutive just to be petty.

This made Yugyeom boggle his eyes once more in disbelief at the unexpected answer and he pouted indignant "Hey, I took care of you!", but both knew he was being playful, with the mischievous glint in his eyes. 

This silly banter made Jinyoung happy, and even though he was hurting all over and his mouth sting,the potato soup Yugyeom fed him by spoon - because Jinyoung shouldn't move around - felt incredibly tasty. And he wouldn't say it, not at least to his face, but Jinyoung wanted to hug this young and sweet boy, and his chest overwhelmed with warmth. 


	3. Prometheus' Pain - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, I'm so tired! Life is being a little hard right now, sorry for this infinite wait, guys. I'm not abandoning this fic, I swear. Now I'm on vacation and trying to update everything, so here it is.  
> Comments are always welcome so I know everyone is understanding this mess, haha  
> See u, baby birds~

I.

Yugyeom was looking at his watch for a while now and Jinyoung felt bad because he thought he was a burden.

"You're not a burden", Yugyeom repeated for what felt like the fifth time, and finished collecting things from his wardrobe and stuffed everything in a blue backpack.

"You are being too naive, what if I am a criminal?", Jinyoung asked, brows arched way up in his forehead "You could be murdered by me while you're on your back", he insisted, but then yelped when he moved a little and his bruises reminded him why he wouldn’t be able to tackle a guy much bigger than him.

"Yeah, that answered your question", Yugyeom snorted audibly and heard a huff in response "Seriously, you're not a burden... I need to go to work, I'm a little late. I'm going to let you rest and come back after I find something about whom you might be, okay?", he said, voice seemingly tired. 

Jinyoung was overcome with a soft warmth, but he also thought Yugyeom was very trusting for a cop. He was fed and taken care of, and he was in bed full of cozy blankets snuggled around him. Yugyeom didn't even sleep and was talking about work and investigations. 

"But how can you just leave me here alone?", Jinyoung insisted, and part of him was being so stubborn because he was afraid of being by himself. 

"My friend is going to come back for lunch and anyways, you're not in any condition to be walking, much less escaping anywhere", Yugyeom grabbed a spare coat he used in his graduation and buckled his belt, adjusting the black sleeved shirt so his smartwatch was easily in reach "if you get hungry, there’s some cookies in a jar near the kitchen, I usually eat downstairs, so I'm sorry... I need to buy some things", he murmured the last phrase and set a memo in his head with a click of his ring, a neon blue note appearing in the corner of his sight. 

"Come back soon…”, Jinyoung whispered, disheartened when the younger waved and promised to come back soon. The door closed with a click and he was left alone. 

II.

Jinyoung stayed in bed for a long time, but he wasn't sleepy; true to be told, he felt very awake and anxious. His jeans were bothering him for a while and in one boost of resolution he got up, agonizing in silence, and got rid of the tight pants, relishing in the feeling of fresh air in his legs. After neatly folding it, Jinyoung looked around the apartment, really looked around. He never stopped to explore or pay attention to his surroundings until now. He walked slowly towards the desk full of little gadgets and accessories he assumed were just like the trinkets Yugyeom squandered with his uniform, and with that thought, he snorted, body filling with a strange shiver he couldn't quite understand. He recognized some of it, just memories from seeing it around, maybe in some commercials; the thought of recognizing things really leveled up his mood. It seems his brain didn’t completely forget the basics of the world he lived in. 

The wardrobe, he chanced a glance tentatively, was open ajar, just a little flash of clothes and a bit of Yugyeom’s personal life. He was younger, of course, so Jinyoung expected some juvenile anime prints or even lots of _all stars_. He convinced himself he wasn't a creep for looking at other person’s things without their knowledge and opened the door, revealing one incredible collection of all the black clothes someone could have. He found two or three navy blue trousers and four simple and plain colored t-shirts, but most jeans, coats and even shoes were black. Jinyoung was assaulted with a mean reverie of Yugyeom being the sorrowful emo with pink tresses and giant hoodies, hiding from the mean society and eloping from his loving but strict parents. Whoever, after a good laugh, he thought about how this image didn't fit with the actual deal. He then found a box full of glinting accessories of all kinds. Yugyeom really had a lot of technologic earrings and rings. 

Losing interest in clothes, Jinyoung hobbled to the bathroom and after inspecting the apparently normal environment, got a snippet of what seemed like pill bottles inside the cabinet below the sink. He grabbed one, large and orange labeled with difficult words, but Jinyoung immediately understood this was to help one to sleep. He stared at the bottle for a while, remembering the tired eyes Yugyeom had before exiting and he didn’t feel good. Did the boy had difficulty sleeping? 

He looked long at the bottle, tempted to take one or two pills so he could pass out until Yugyeom returned. The younger gave him a summary of his life when he woke up: he was a new cop from the rural areas and came to Seoul so he could study to be in the police academy, hence he found him while working. Jinyoung’s memory about the explosion was a little foggy, so he felt grateful to know about these details about someone else. Apparently, he lived in this tiny apartment in the second floor of Youngjae’s house, whom he told was his friend since he moved to the city. Jinyoung was a little afraid to be left with someone he didn’t know, but then again, he didn’t know Yugyeom too.

The place seemed a little messy and unlived-in, and besides some cute designs of the coverlet, mugs scattered, and a towel stretched in the box, the place barely had any personality at all. If he was living here this many years, Jinyoung found it odd for the lack of decorations, and again he looked at the gadgets on the table.

“He really doesn’t stay home, does he…”, he murmured, feeling cold and alone. He still could feel the pains all over his body and the cut in his lips stung every time he thought about it.

Jinyoung caught in the wardrobe black sweatpants and apologized mentally to Yugyeom for using his clothes, touching his face and the injuries in his stomach. He walked slowly to the front door and tried opening, to what the door biped and asked for the password. Giving up trying to get out, he went back to bed and curled below the blankets, crying again.

“What the hell happened… What if I… What if I hurt someone…?”

Hours seemed to pass. Jinyoung opened his eyes, realizing he slept while crying and sighed, looking around the darker apartment. Yugyeom wasn’t back yet. He decided to go to the kitchen to try and find those cookies Yugyeom talked about and noticed a red light blinking in the doorframe.

When he came closer, looking at it with curiosity, the light beeped and his face was illuminated by a sensor, before he could listen to a mechanic voice.

“A new message for Kim Yugyeom. Would you like to listen to it?”

Jinyoung opened his mouth to answer but hesitated. What he was doing? He should go the nearest delegacy and turn himself in. Yugyeom was being so kind and it wasn’t fair.

“Yes”

“Good afternoon, Jinyoung-hyung. I’m working on trying to find out who are you! I hope you feel a little better! I told my housemate to make you something to eat, so don’t worry, soon I’ll be there. Feel free to take a shower and rest. Youngjae is very trustworthy, so you can count on him. He knows about your injuries and helped me with it, so let him take care of that too. Yes, Jackson, I’m coming! ….. Sorry, hyung, but don’t tell anything about you for now. I told him you were an immigrant and gained life selling your body, I’m sorry. But please go along with it for now- YES I’M COMING!!! Anyway, I told him your name is Junior, so please just keep this story for now, later I will explain to you everything! Bye!!”

“What?! Sell my body?!!” Jinyoung was mortified just with this idea and now he really didn’t want to meet this Youngjae person. It doesn’t matter if the guy was kind and caring, he knew people didn’t care about the outcasts. “Why the hell he thought of bringing someone like this to his house? Obviously, his friend will have a problem with it… What do I do…?”

He decided to sit and munch on the chocolate cookies, at the same time consumed with shame, fear and longing. A part of him wanted to remember, but another didn’t and was happy knowing he could be safe with Yugyeom.

He then heard the door beeping when someone tried to open the door, and he sprinted to hide behind the table, as if on instinct, trembling and biting his lips to stand the pain in his bones.

“Really, Yugyeom? Why do you even lock this fucking door when you know it’s my workday?”, an effeminate voice spoke from beyond the door “really, this just slow down- argh!!! Stupid door!” the man grunted with gritted teeth and finally opened the door “Yugyeom where the fuc- WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?”

Jinyoung jumped when the high-pitched voice screamed and a bony and thin man stopped and pointed a long finger with decorated nails in black and pink at him.

“I’m calling the police! Where the fuck is my Yugyeom?” he pressed and Jinyoung started to go backwards, shuddering. This certainly wasn’t Youngjae, but that person knew Yugyeom. Right now though, Jinyoung was really startled to think or sputter his made-up name. He then heard a commotion downstairs and sounds of someone hurrying up the stairs.

“Bam, wait! Yugyeom isn’t home!”, another voice came from behind the man in front of him and with it appeared a kind looking person with a worried face “calm down, this is-”

“What the hell is happening… Why is there? Is he…?” the other looked at the smaller man and again at Jinyoung, realization hitting him when his eyes opened in surprise, a pained frown covering his face and then turning into an untrusting glare in seconds “that idiot… Did you know he was here? Since when?” he asked, not taking his eyes off Jinyoung, who was still all shrunken in the floor.

“Ok, calm down. Let me just… Look, ahn, Junior, right?” the other took some steps forward and Jinyoung pressed hard against the wall, fear evident in his eyes “ah, I’m sorry! Don’t be scared, I’m Youngjae, Yugyeom’s friend… He told about me, right? And this is Bambam. Sorry for this, but we won’t do anything to you. I know you’re scared but let me help you to get back to bed, you’re hurt…” Youngjae spoke slowly and patient, showing his hands in a manner to tell Jinyoung he didn’t mean any harm.

“For god’s sake! Just get up, you”, the man called Bambam spat grumpily and walked towards him, not caring when Jinyoung again jumped in surprise “look, I’m like you so I know how shitty this life feels, but I don’t have time to deal with this, I need to clean this mess and kick Yugyeom’s ass”

“Bam, don’t be like this… he just woke up”, Youngjae tried to say, but was immediately cut off.

“Stop, you know as well as I do Yugyeom needs to stop worrying about people’s life. He already has enough on his plate and really, you don’t like when he brings home prostitutes to mend” Bambam said coldly and started putting trash away in a plastic bag.

“Bam! It’s not his fault, he was unconscious… Ah! I forgot, Junior, please get up, you broke your ribs, you shouldn’t be crouched!” Youngjae exclaimed and came running towards him.

Jinyoung was still wary of them, and when he looked towards Bambam, he just glared and sighed with impatience “just go, you mutt. You look horrible, I don’t need you uglying the ambient when my nails are done”

“Don’t mind Bambam, he is just jealous”, Youngjae said in a low voice, smiling a little.

“Fuck off already, oh my god!”

Jinyoung was helped up and followed Youngjae out the door, looking around at the simple, but much more inviting house downstairs. His face must have shown his curiosity, so Youngjae smiled gently and started explaining he lived in his parents’ old house, because they moved to another country.

“And now I live with Gyeommie…” He seemed to want to say something more, and when they reached the kitchen, he turned and looked Jinyoung in the eyes, “Junior-ssi… I know you must have been through a lot… I’m sorry. But, ahn… Do you have anywhere to go…?”

Jinyoung’s eyes widened and felt so bad about the whole thing his mouth tasted like vomit.

“Ah, no, no! You can stay, of course. I’m just asking because I’m worried… You are pretty, well, bad. And Gyeom doesn’t think a lot before he does things… You aren’t running from someone dangerous, are you…?” Youngjae tried to sound the gentlest someone ever could while asking this.

Jinyoung needed to summon a calmness he didn’t know he had to muster up the courage to open his mouth “I’m not… I just… Some client was…”

“Oh, you don’t need to explain, please. I just wanted to know… Yugyeom is really reckless and always ends up hurt… I’m almost used to fixing him up, haha”, the man said with a sad laugh, and then quickly turned towards a pot near the sink “please, eat up, I reheated the soup... Yugyeom said you liked it.”

“Oh, yes, I really did… Thank you, Youngjae-ssi.”, Jinyoung emended awkwardly.

“Just Youngjae is fine, you seem older than me, anyways”, he said in a kind manner and filled one bowl with soup, placing it in front of Jinyoung “seat and eat, you need to be with your stomach full to take your medicine. Ah, I study medicine, so don’t worry, I know a thing or two about broken bones”, he added with a wink.

Jinyoung didn’t wait long to sit down and eat just like instructed, a smile forming in his face when he tasted the warm soup. Youngjae sat and looked at Jinyoung while he ate, head tilted a little.

“You are so graceful while eating”, he commented, to what Jinyoung stopped mid-air and returned his gaze “I mean, you’re more polite in table than I am”, the younger said with a smile, and then averted his eyes to look at the window “Bambam was like you, you know… Don’t let his animosity towards you scare you away, he’s just very protective of Yugyeom. He saved his life, after all”.

“Why are you telling me this…?” Jinyoung said after a while, not knowing what reaction he should have about it.

“Just… I can’t conceive what you two must have gone through… And you are hurt and scared, but know you are not alone, ok? I trust Yugyeom and he decided to help you, so I’m going to help him.”

That simple sentence was able to touch Jinyoung’s core. He felt so alone, scared and on edge since he woke up in that cabin, and thought no one would care about him when every people in the street ignored him. Yugyeom overflowed with this warm aura, and Youngjae was just like him, even if he sounded a little hesitant.

“When you say Bambam is like me… You mean he sell his body?”, Jinyoung felt bad asking, and couldn’t even imagine what someone’s life could be like to turn to prostitution.

“Ah, Bam… Well, everything happened a little after Yugyeom moved here. He was looking for cheap rent near the police academy when he found Bam being…”, Youngjae was trying to force the words out, but couldn’t, and then they both startled in their sits when Bambam’s curt voice boomed through the room.

“I was being raped by two disgusting pigs when he found me in an alleyway, screaming for help. Nobody even bothered stopping to look, but Yugyeom came running and gave those guys hell for what they did, and soon after they were taken to delegacy. But of course, because I’m a useless and unwanted immigrant, they were soon discharged and promised to come after me. Those rich kids can do whatever if their family is wealthy enough.” Bambam talked about that as if it happened to someone else. Jinyoung was so shocked and distraught about this he could feel the soup crawling back his throat “anyway, Yugyeom beat them up again till they were begging and crying for their mamas”.

“This is so… This shouldn’t…” Jinyoung stuttered, trying to not break in the middle of his sentence, voice trembling.

“Oh, please. In this line of work… Things like this are common”, Bambam said coolly, but Jinyoung saw the way his eyes trembled.

“Let’s just stop talking about this! Now things are better!”, Youngjae said to cut the tension, clapping his hands.

“You bet, sister. Thank god for that. Now I don’t need to suck dick”, Bambam smirked, pursing his lips to the side.

“Bambam is a great hairstylist now, you know? He’s famous around here! I don’t even know why he insists in being Yugyeom’s maid”.

“That idiot can’t keep his room clean if his life depended on it! I’m just paying back for what he did”.

“You know it’s bullshit, Yugyeom says you don’t need to thank him”, Youngjae replied with a knowing smile.

“Of course he says. He thinks he’s some kind of hero. Really, someday he will end up dead trying to fix this city.”.

Jinyoung silently listened to their back and forth, abandoning the soup. He felt a lot more secure even if Yugyeom wasn’t here. He knew those were good people, and a mountain of feelings rose in his chest when he thought about what Bambam’s been through. His body hurt just thinking about it. And then his head hurt, more than it was hurting, as if someone stuck a needle in his brain. Flashes of neon light appeared around him, sounds like violins being scratched in the background, and his body being pushed down, and then this overwhelmingly muffled noise, ears ringing, cold air touching his body when hands ripped his clothes, using his on blazer to keep his hands tied. And then he heard screams, a woman, long hair, bathed in red neon, crying, the man was pushed. The one that pinned Jinyoung down. There was blood everywhere.

“Junior! Junior, are you okay!? Bam, help me here!” he heard a shrill voice around the room, and suddenly he got out of there, the neon lights fading when he looked at Youngjae’s concerned face “Junior, can you hear me!?”

He realized he was trembling so much he fell of the chair, and the salt in his lips told him he was crying.

“What happened? Did… Did something trigger you? I’m so sorry! Come, let’s go to bed”

He didn’t know he was in bed, he just kept remembering the lights, the blood and the screams. He felt Youngjae removing his bandages and Bambam’s hands holding him down so they could look at his bruises.

“I need… I want… Where is!” He said in a strangled voice, eyes widened in terror “where is Yugyeom, please!”

III.

Yugyeom had been seated for almost an hour in front of the chief of police, hearing an endless lecture about his wrong conduct when approaching a criminal without help. The handgun he caught from Jeon Jungkook was now being carefully examined in forensics, together with his files.

“Chief, don’t be mean to our youngest recruit!” Jackson’s voice reverberated in the room just as the cheerful officer entered with two mugs with steaming coffee from the machine.

“Shut it, Wang! This kid just causes me trouble! I thought putting him with you was going to make things easier for me… Just keep him under his leash or you are going to the yellow district!” the man yelled and accepted the mug with his usual grumpy face “now you two get off of my face”.

“Gladly”, Yugyeom whispered and received a slap in the head from Jackson.

When they were in the corridor, Jackson turned to Yugyeom with arms crossed in a menacing aura “You. With. Me. Now”.

Of course, the lesson wasn’t going to finish so soon. Yugyeom rolled his eyes and resumed to walking till his desk, stealing Jackson’s mug and taking a large sip before returning it to the already fuming short man.

“Where in the hell are you going?”, he asked exasperated and followed the younger to a stack of stairs going down.

“The archives”, Yugyeom answered unruffled.

“And may I know why?”

“Just need to look for something.”

“Yugyeom, come on, man! You were in the middle of an explosion! Where were you yesterday? You got lost and then forgot your job? You left me alone looking for you! Thank god you aren’t dead!” the older continued speaking while they went down.

“I’m sorry, alright? I just got distracted for a minute, I was trying to see through the files and forgot where I was”.

“You should know to read while walking you brat!”

Yugyeom just laughed, bumping his shoulder lightly against Jackson in a heartful way. The older just sighed and shook his arms, slurping his coffee.

“Never mind. I’m so not going to be here! My nose is itchy just from coming close! Argh, see you later. I actually have something to do not thanks to your help” Jackson yelped, going back up without turning around.

“What are you grumbling about, hyung?”, Yugyeom asked, stopping to look at his partner with brows up, skeptical. Jackson always liked to increase his inexistent list of “things to do”, when in reality he just looked at Bambam’s photos and looked like a fool in the middle of the delegacy.

“For once I do have something to do” Jackson said, appalled, “there was a murder while you were being lost”, Jackson replied, a little somber this time.

“What!? Who died? It was the Jungkook guy?”, Yugyeom’s eyes bulged out, and he scrambled to go up the stairs.

“We don’t know yet, there was a lot of blood. Whoever did it make a work there. It was a young girl. You didn’t see the news? The press was all over the place. I was almost punching those vultures”, Jackson snarled, looking at Yugyeom with raised brows “you really didn’t know?”

“I was… I was occupied with my injuries. Oh my god… I didn’t do anything to help…”

“It’s not your fault, dummy head”, Jackson slapped his head again when Yugyeom started to frown his face “you can’t save everyone.”

They passed the entire day talking with the forensic department and reading reports about the victim. Yugyeom was looking at Kim Jisoo file, her photo alive, healthy and pink cheeks next to the lifeless, white and desaturated face of her body in the cold morgue room.

“Her death was caused by asphyxiation from the blood that leaked to her lungs… She was shot in the chest five times… Here, here, here, here and here, near her heart” the pathologist pointed to five black punctures in the superficial flesh and then bended the skin upwards to show it internally, the lungs already opened where the blood passed. “but before she was struck in the head… Here, in the right, just above her ears. I found her chip intact, and she was still wearing her lenses when we found her” the man explained didactically while pointing around in his rubber gloves.

“She was unconscious when she was shot?”, Jackson asked, taking mental notes with his smartwatch.

“No, there are signs of fighting, look at her arms. Someone grabbed her when she tried to escape. I’m guessing they struck her before they grabbed her.”

“Are there any signs of sexual assault or DNA?”, Yugyeom tried, looking the body with a constricted face.

“No, we didn’t find anything in the body. My guys are still looking for traces in the apartment, but until now, nothing. The son of a bitch was smart, he used gloves and cleaned the space. Not even a single hair was found yet”

“But you said there was blood everywhere, Jackson”, Yugyeom turned to his partner, confused.

“There was. We don’t know how, but the person didn’t leave marks of shoes, hair, nothing. It was like nobody even entered the place, but that isn’t possible” the man said, uncovering his face from the medical mask he used.

“There was a chance she was brought there, no?”, Jackson tried, but the doctor shook his head.

“All that blood, and not a trace of splashes of her being dragged. But we did found her blood near. In an old telephone booth.”

“She could have tried contacting someone after being attacked, but then ran to the apartment when the assailer went after her”, Jackson retorted, but again the doctor shook his head, seeming tired.

“Impossible. She still was with her lenses and chip, why would she use a telephone? Nobody uses them nowadays, the majority is broken anyways, is just an ornament to remember the old times”.

“You found another blood with hers, didn’t you?”, Yugyeom interrupted before Jackson opened his mouth again. His friend had the habit of creating easy ways to deal with cases that didn’t have concrete explanations.

“Yes, we did”, the pathologist conceded, waving his head and took off his gloves “we are still running tests in the samples… For what I can see, the glass cut the person that was there, but we don’t know for sure, could be the assassin, but also some drunk. Although highly unlikely”.

“But why are you running tests again? Who the first result show?”, Yugyeom wanted to know.

“Well, that’s the problem… The blood didn’t match with anyone from South Korea. Now we are trying to contact Interpol to see if it’s someone from other country. Depending on what happens, it could lead to civil war”, the man said, voice turning tired.

“Are you serious?”

Yugyeom couldn’t fathom this crime happening in such scale. And Jinyoung, was he involved? If he didn’t have a chip… But he should be in the archives anyways, or at least in the backup in Neuromancer.

“No, if we don’t get a match, we need to reconstruct his face from the DNA. But that will take long and a lot of money…”, the doctor answered.

“Hah, but the girl is the daughter of some rich prick, the government won’t sweep this under the rug, or the birdies will chirp”, Jackson leered.

“There is that too”, the man agreed and included the brief of the autopsy in their files via lenses.

Yugyeom was so tired he barely had strength to get up from his chair when Jackson got out of the meeting with his team and the chief.

“What did he say?” he almost jostled Jackson in his hurry to get to him.

“Woah, calm down. How long since you slept, cutie Gyeom?”, Jackson grinned, but lost his smile when he saw the pleading eyes looking at him “Sorry, Yugyeom, chief wants you out of this case”.

“But I-”

“You weren’t there, so go chase petty criminals and stop giving me a headache” the chief gruffed when leaving his office.

“You heard him, Gyeom. It’s better if you step out of this one. Might be too big for you now…”, Jackson said apologetically and patted his shoulder “go home and rest, ok? I got the ok from the Buffalo Bill. He ain’t happy, but you are hurt. Go to a hospital and stop worrying Youngjae, ok? I’ll visit you soon”.

Yugyeom wanted to kick and flip every table in the room. He heard the snickers from the other man, and Jackson went off with other men to the crime scene again. He was tired of people looking down on him and treating him like a child. He was the best student and worked a lot to be where he was.

He told Jinyoung before that he was going back after finding something, but between discovering news about a murder right under his nose at the same time he and Jinyoung met and trying to find files on who Jinyoung was, Yugyeom didn’t have a single lead.

He went back to the archives and passed the next three or four hours looking for something, anything that could be related to Jinyoung or his family. The papers were so old that they came apart in a bunch of brown flour in his clothes. But Jinyoung was not missing, nor wanted in any place since 2180. They didn’t have older registers because of the Great Rebellion of 2181, and all the papers and written archives and works were or in some birdie mansion or burnt. He sighed, feeling defeated, and started to go back home when he realized his lenses were offline for calls.

When he turned them on again, he saw at least eight calls from Bambam and ninety from Youngjae. His heart started beating fast and he set off towards his house, calling Youngjae, who answered after the first ring.

“Thank god, Yugyeom! When are you coming home?”, the older asked, voice very tired and worried.

“I’m on my way! Something happened to Junior?” he inquired almost forgetting to say Jinyoung’s made up name.

“Right now he is sleeping… But it was horrible, he started convulsing and kept calling for you… I didn’t know what to do, so Bam and I held him, and I gave him sedatives. It seems he triggered some psychological trauma… He met Bam and you know how he is… I guess the similar experience made him remember his own, and then he collapsed…”.

“I’m coming, ok? Don’t do anything more… Thank you, hyung. Truly”.

“Thank me by buying some chocolate later, just come home, please”.

“On my way”.

The call ended and Yugyeom sprinted faster, forgetting his frustration from the job and ignoring people’s stares. Jinyoung called for him, he needed to help him.

“He didn’t do anything… I know it.”


End file.
